10thD It Doesn't End There
by VAPX007
Summary: Intended Fix-It for Journey's End , an 'AU stuff that' for The End of Time and an eventual 10D/DN 'shipper. Premise: Someone out there is looking for a 'Time Lord' and their attention turns to Donna Noble. Minor swearing ... because she does. How will the author indeed 'fix-it', and can the author even write a 'shipper on someone who doesn't really do that sort of thing? Chapter 6
1. Plain Old

_A/n: I don't own Doctor Who, Donna Noble or a TARDIS. I do try my hand at clever alien plots - or was that just alien plots coz nobody gets them? Blimey; here I go wandering off on yet another downer again._

_I'm all for making this a Fix-It for _Journey's End_ , an 'AU stuff that' for _The End of Time _and an eventual 10D/DN 'shipper. _

_However that said I believe that posting to this website is an incredibly Masochistic act and not posting further chapters for an indefinite amount of time is of no great loss to me. (It would be different if I __knew__ a few people actually liked it, of course.) I mean, surely. What more lonely and self-destructive thing can I possibly do to myself other than reach out to such a brain numbing and impersonal silence?_

* * *

**OPENING**

* * *

**Donna Noble**

* * *

_'It always felt like I should be with someone else ... doing something else ... I dunno what. But I tried all that and it didn't work. In the end, we didn't work.'_

Donna Noble frowned to herself, trying to sum up the relationship breakdown she'd had with Shaun Temple as the crowded train carriage got even more crowded as the train shot towards the inner city stations.

Someone bolstered past her. Donna just made a bit more room and clutched her handbag closer to her side so they could get by before she pushed towards the doors herself.

As she got out of the carriage she didn't notice that someone was following her through the substation.

* * *

"That's the one." One of the black combat-suited figures said quietly into his commlink.

"Deceptive." The other quietly responded. "There doesn't appear to be anything unusual about this woman."

"Not according to the tracking unit. It says-."

"Right, Time Lord. We better hop it, then."

* * *

Donna hurried up the escalator and made her way out of the station, a slightly irrational terror filling her.

"Bloody late again!" She cursed herself, the defunct trains and especially the genius in number 10 who thought it fit to go banging his equipment around at two a.m. in the morning. Boy, did he cop an earful back.

She got to the recruitment agency and steadied herself as she walked into the reception area. She was still nearly ten minutes early but over the last year or so she'd gotten into the habit of running to places ... she didn't know why; she just liked to do it. With a well-practised reclaimed air of dignity she addressed the receptionist there. "Donna Noble here for my appointment?" She smiled professionally.

"Oh, yes, if you'll just have a seat I'll just let them know you've arrived." She handed Donna a clipboard to mutely agree to and sign and then dashed through the door to the side.

The worrisome feeling wasn't leaving and Donna sat down, trying to get a grip on herself. She'd done this plenty of times before. She'd made it just in the nick of time as usual and everything was just peachy.

So why was the freaking out episode not over? Why was the bad feeling getting worse inside her?

Donna scribbled her signature at the bottom of the page, stood up and placed the clipboard on the empty desk counter before she turned to look out the window. Two men dressed like M.I. agents were walking on the pavement outside. She felt her heart literally pounding with an instinctive understanding as one of them opened the door. They'd come for her.

* * *

_A/n: All feedback is important. The original Delia Derbyshire work for the Doctor Who theme song was built largely using feedback so that just goes to show. Also there's a little tick box down below labelled 'Follow: Story' which will give you a lovely email telling you that there's more to read and will also let me know that someone wants to read more._


	2. Moving On

_A/n: Again, erase the 'knock four times' prophecy thing from the timeline and we're fairly on the same page. If you don't know about that prophecy but have watched up to Journey's End then you'll be spot on._

_A/n: If you're still reading this but you didn't like the last post then there is a chance you may in fact be an Auton programmed by the Nestene consciousness to keep clicking the Next button. In that case you are still quite welcome._

_A/n: Zero passive sentences today! Yay!_

* * *

**MOVING ON**

* * *

The Martian music was in full blast at the far end of the moderately sized room; a warbling set of arpeggios arranged to the time of a cheery four beats per bar kept an upbeat atmosphere amongst most of the patrons. There were humanoids here, Draconians there, a trio of Alpha Centauri in the corner.

The Doctor had attempted to lose himself in the crowd of a popular cosmic bar. Unfortunately the colourful atmosphere didn't budge his mood very much. It just seemed like the most he was doing was propping up the bar. With a glass of water at his fingertips the Time Lord was feeling too much like an alien in this place.

He shook himself slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. This passive people watching hobby wasn't doing much for him today. Plus the upbeat music didn't inspire him to dance; it just made him feel old. In order for the doctor to feel young again he resolved the best thing for himself was to get in and do something practical. Go somewhere.

The three Alpha Centauri creatures started making their way through the crowd and brought their anxious high pitched chatter with them. They pressed up to the bar not too far from the Doctor and ordered another round of drinks for themselves. From the snippets of their conversation that the Doctor caught amidst the background din he initially thought they were talking about salmon pink curtains and turquoise floor matting. It seemed unlikely that the Alpha Centaurans could be quite as severely vexed about such a relatively minor thing as interior decorating after already having travelled halfway across the galaxy with it. Curious as to what was really the matter the Doctor moved just slightly closer to them, covering his intention to eavesdrop by spinning around and taking a large thirsty swallow of his water at the same time.

As it turned out the hexapods were chiefly fretting because there was an ion storm currently in their proposed flight trajectory. They were supposing that the subsequent delay to their ship's departure from the spaceport might make them miss an extremely important science convention back on Alpha Centauri.

The Alpha Centauri Sci-con of 1912. From history records this was possibly the very same convention that marked the introduction of the first Room Bomb that would later become Hecto Shellac's infamous World Bomb a few hundred years later. The Doctor did wonder over the nuances of such a historic event and decided for curiosity's sake that he'd better make a show of it. With a polite nod to anyone who happened to catch eye with him, which happened to be one of the Alpha Centauri who was facing his way and blinking its giant eye in the middle of its head in his direction, the Doctor casually made his way out of the bustling bar.

After all: no ion storm was going to trouble the TARDIS' departure to anywhere.

* * *

The massive parking lot housed a large assortment of parked ships against a star studded backdrop. In the middle of the eternal view the ion storm flared like a colourful splash in the middle of a painting.

The Doctor took a moment to gaze out on the stars beyond the dome force field of the spaceport's customer parking lot. A huge field of colours, the ion storm almost masked the view of Alpha Centauri's binary suns and its close neighbour the Sol.

As the Doctor approached his beloved TARDIS the hulking Draconian battle-cruiser parked in the next bay allotment somewhat dwarfed the neat little blue police box shape. He ruefully recalled something Donna had remarked on once. 'You've got a box. He's got a Ferrari.' She had a tendency to scale trivial facts like visual appeal but the wonderful thing about her was that she always turned back for a deeper look.

He drew the key from his pocket and went to open the trans-dimensional door into the visually deceptive TARDIS.

* * *

It was time to move on again. The Doctor set the controls for Alpha Centauri, 1 July 1912 and released the handbrake.

With a sudden lurch the TARDIS was off track. The Doctor spun around the control console, trying to keep his footing. Sparks flew as the TARDIS groaned argumentatively. "No, oh, no! The neutronium regulator oh, no you don't!" He grabbed the mallet and banged on the console to resolve the hiccup. The system stabilized and the Doctor checked the sterometer. Some of the elements had overheated.

'Come on, I only just replaced that thing. There was no reason it should do that.' "What are you up to, old girl?" He queried the TARDIS' sentience around him with a frown. The re-materialization light turned on and he concentrated on landing instead.

The astrosextant rectifier read 'Alpha Centauri, Science Convention Centre, 1 July 2012, 7.01 am'.  
"I'm a bit late for the Room Bomb." He patted the console with slight reservation. The TARDIS pulsed back with a worried discordance. "We'll try again once you've calmed down, eh?" The pulses steadied back almost to normal at his words.

"Meanwhile I guess I'll go have a look at where you brought me." A little more cheerful for being in a new place the Doctor grabbed his jacket and stepped out of the TARDIS.


	3. Come Home

**COME HOME**

* * *

As he finished putting on his jacket the Doctor's feet landed on sodden dewy grass. In front of him he saw a lush green field rising up to a knoll with a few odd trees acting as a windbreak.

"Willow and green ash; lovely." He regarded the tree line before him as he walked up the slope. "Not traditionally what one might find on the Alpha Centauran home world, however." He remarked to himself. "Earth is far more likely ..." He turned around and regarded the full view. A group of curious cows stared with doleful eyes at him from just a couple of metres down the way from the TARDIS. Backing them was their picturesque home all of rolling green fields, blue sky and fluffy white clouds. Over in the distance he spotted a single farmhouse with white walls and a red roof half hidden by an overgrown cottage garden and to the left of that there was a barn followed by another line of trees. He studied the horizon and saw way off in the distance a church steeple standing out amongst a thick stretch of greenery. There was a vague familiarity about this area although the Doctor couldn't pick it from this angle.

"Judging by the local flora I'd say ..." He paused, realising he was speaking aloud to himself yet again. With a woeful sigh the Doctor shrugged and started walking towards the cows near the TARDIS.  
"Hello there, I'm the Doctor," he told the cows, "do you mind me parking my ship here for a bit?"  
The closest cow stared at him and waggled her ears. The others only looked up at him for a moment before continuing their grazing.  
"My ship, that blue box," he pointed, "it's my space ship. You know what a spaceship is, right?"  
The cow nodded and with a swallow she slowly lowered her head down to the grass in a display of total disinterest in him.  
"Right, well." He sniffed in defeat and looked away, "I take it you don't mind if I leave it here for a bit then." Gathering his courage back up the Doctor made towards the township on the horizon.  
'Oi, bipedal?'  
He spun around with a smile as a black and white Friesian calf looked at him and doffed his head to the left. 'The lane's over that way.'  
"Oh, thank you very much!" The Doctor replied and, with his hands in his pockets he veered left.

As he continued on along the narrow tarmac road, breathing in the fresh country air, the sense of familiarity about the area grew. It was something about the atmosphere and the geographical layout that came clearer to him as he closed in on the village. Or it could have been the birdsong.

The birds ranged from unmistakable rooks up in the higher land and as the road meandered down to a low water crossing he could hear the deep resonance of bitterns and the piping of avocets. A gaggle of Canadian geese crossed the road in front of him and a very large extended family of starlings was enjoying the bright sunny day with great relish.

A sign in the distance up ahead came into view. 'Welcome to Farringham Village. Population six hundred and six.' The Doctor read.

* * *

Eventually the road wound its way into the updated village. The buildings along the main street were all built after the First World War. Instinctively the Doctor knew that the discarded future would've seen it a few thousand people stronger and more older buildings intact.

Regardless of his guilt over the past Farringham was now a beautiful and cosy little village. There were window boxes brimming with colourful flowers and the number of parked bicycles was nearly equal to that of cars. A woman walking into the newsagency and a man up the road tending a garden were the only people he could see out and about.

There was a parked station wagon, a hatchback, and a Ute with a dog sitting in the tray.

The dog was watching him with a wagging tail and curious ears. 'Hallo, I'm Ralph! I'd love a petting.'  
He came up to the side of the Ute and scratched the dog behind the ears. ''What a great name, Ralph. I'm the Doctor. Tell me; do you possibly know what the date is?"  
'Well, let's see. It's still summer.' The dog snuffled. 'We've done the drenching.' The dog yawned comfortably.  
"I ... don't know much about farming." The Doctor said regretfully. "Waell, not on Earth, anyway."  
'Oh, not a bother, Doctor. Try the paper shop over there; that's where my human seems to get all sorts of human information from. Oh, and I can recommend the food shop.' The dog nodded at the chairs and tables one door up from the post office. 'Mrs. Latimer's carrot cake is simply delicious. If you can sneak off with a bit for me that'd be such a treat.'  
The Doctor regarded the sandwich board offering a tea and cake deal. "Thank you very much. I'll see if I can manage something for you before your human gets back." He smiled at the dog.  
'Watch out!' The dog barked in alarm. There was a scrabble of four wheels on the uneven paving heading directly towards him and the Doctor spun around to catch the skateboarder from bumping into him.

"Whoa, there we are." He smiled as he managed to keep them both upright.  
"Sorry. Still learning." The teenager mumbled without catching his eye, focusing instead on grabbing up his skateboard from off the ground. The young adult dashed off up the street in a fit of nerves.

The Doctor walked over to the cafe on the other side of the road.

* * *

Inside it was part cafe and part general food store. There were freezers sporting trays of sausages and cupboards lined the walls filled with food like cans of mushrooms in gravy sauce and packets of Jammie Dodgers. He collected a newspaper from the rack beside the counter and asked for a cup of tea and piece of carrot cake.

After dropping half the contents of his change pocket onto the counter he sat down at a spare table by the open window. The other patrons were two elderly women; one thin and the other portly.

'1 July 2012. Farringham village.' He slowly scanned the paper as he enjoyed his tea. Most of the news was about farming, trade prices, racing results and promotions for upcoming events in the nearby towns.

"... The place was a complete mess last night, Cin. Darn near scared me half to death to think they might still have been around when I got in."  
"Oh, gosh! Was anything stolen?"  
"That's the funny thing about it. At first glance it didn't look like anything was actually taken. It was just terribly disorganised. Sam said to go through everything as I was tidying up because it quite looked to him like they were looking for something very specific. I'm very glad I took his advice because I discovered that they did take something and now I don't feel so worried about the whole thing."

"Someone broke into your house and you don't feel worried because they stole something? You could have had a heart attack. What was it?"  
"Don't you fret, dear, my heart is fine. They took one of Granddad's trinkets. If you look at it practically, Hyacinth, they've got what they were after so they'll hardly be wanting to come back again, will they?"  
"That's certainly true, Martha, but-."  
"I didn't notice it was missing straight away because I normally leave it in the box with the rest of Granddad's things. I'm hardly in the practice of needing to look at it every day. In fact I'd have thought it was my own carelessness to have lost it if they hadn't been quite so obvious about rifling through everything. They even pulled the cushions off the chairs for goodness sake!"  
"Gracious, Martha, have you talked to Sam again and told him?"  
"Not yet."  
"Oh, but you really must."  
"It hardly matters since I know he can't do much about it." Martha said in a rather dark turn of her voice.

The Doctor glanced over to the two elderly women sitting there. A niggling feeling crept up on the Doctor; it wasn't his department to chase down common burglars but he couldn't avoid listening to their conversation since the whole place was otherwise completely silent. He gazed around at all the goodies for sale along the shelves as he drank his tea. There were jelly crystals and spaghetti, dolly mixtures and more biscuits, coconut cream and sliced beetroot. They all fit in to the tiny space because there was only one or two of each item.

"Come now ..." Hyacinth hesitated, "worth a lot, wasn't it?"  
"Oh, I've never been terribly interested in how much some old thing fetches." The woman Martha sighed.  
"And it's not enough to fuss about. It's just a bit of a shame to lose that bit of history. And it was a darn nuisance having to clean everything up after them! Those land pirates." Martha scoffed with disdain. "I wonder why they couldn't just ask if they could have the blessed thing instead of barging in while I'm out in the back paddock. There's no common decency in people's heads these days, that's what it is. It all goes out the window once someone wants something."

"Still, look on the bright side." Hyacinth offered. "It might turn up in a pawnbroker shop and then the local authorities will have a field day."  
"No, I'm certain it's quite gone." Martha disagreed rather matter-of-factly. "I shan't be seeing it again."

"Surely you don't mean-."  
"It wasn't exactly Cartier, Cin. The candlestick I have in the hall is probably worth more. And Sally's new laptop was sitting out on the coffee table as plain as day. No, I'm just lucky they found what they wanted and left without causing any real damage."  
"... What, you mean like breaking into your wine cellar?"

The two women laughed consolingly together.

Wrapping up the remaining half of the carrot cake the Doctor decided by now the TARDIS' circuits would have cooled off enough and he could have another try at getting to Alpha Centauri. He left the cafe/general store and crossed the road where he then discreetly handed the cake to an ecstatic Ralph.

* * *

After saying goodbye to Ralph the Doctor headed out of town and back to his TARDIS. A large white van was coming towards him down the lane and he waited for them to pass before he carried on. A marsh harrier flew on overhead.

Village shops really were quite different to compare to city shops, the Doctor mused. In the city a store that had 'everything' people wanted in it had to have over a dozen square metres of floor space. With the post office next door - or as Ralph considered it the 'paper shop' and the dressmakers and hardware shops across the road it was perfectly clear that the people of Farringham had little want for anything.

The Doctor turned off the country lane and got over the fence. As he progressed across the paddock he'd left only a couple hours earlier he realised his TARDIS was absent from the scenery.

He stared at the empty patch of grass in shock. "What on Earth would anyone want with a big blue wooden police box?" He felt a flurry of panic as he realised that he'd just been rendered homeless.


	4. All the Pieces to Fit

_A/n: This plot is somewhat plodding and obvious like a tortoise from the Galapagos Islands. Groan as much as you like but __I'm neither Agatha Christie nor Terrance Dicks. On the other hand those tortoises are pretty cool._

* * *

**All the Pieces to Fit**

* * *

In a large courtyard overgrown with weeds a respectable looking middle-aged woman sat alone at a small circular outdoor tea setting. There was a glitter of thrilled excitement in her eyes as she watched a large white van rumble through the open front gate. It drove about in the circular drive and backed up to the double front doors of the large historical building. Up above the front door of the ancient building was an old brass plate. Half-covered in moss and ivy all that could be read of it was 'Farring ... ol ... Boys.'

The woman pressed a button on her Bluetooth earpiece that was half-hidden behind her strawberry-blonde bangs and made it start flashing. "Angel One to Barry Four. Please put the household on full security alert. We've got a busy schedule ahead of us and we shall have an interfering guest drop in on us ... no doubt right in the middle of it."  
"Business as usual then. What are the orders, Angel One?" The voice on the other end was slightly informal as he spoke but there was no doubt that Angel One was his boss.  
She watched as two broad-shouldered men and a thin young adult got out of the van. The youngster went and opened the double doors while the men unloaded something like a 1960s blue police box from out of the back of the van.  
"I'm sure we can be perfectly civil, Barry Four. We mustn't forget this is England."  
"Right you are, ma'am, only how civil do you reckon our visitor's gonna be, but?"  
"You only need to detain him." She spoke to her employee on the other end of the comm-link in a feeling of good humour. "The man likes to talk, so as a rule, do let him go on for as long as he pleases." With a smile Angel One abandoned her tea setting and walked over to the others as they got the box onto the furniture wheeler and pitched it carefully forward. "Now, I must get to work. Over and out."

The two men wheeled the box in through the double front doors of the old school turned personal sanctuary with the boy on their heels. Angel One followed after the others into the large house.

* * *

Lining the walls of the narrow hall as she passed through were many of Angel One's triumphant finds protected in glass display cases. Suits of armour, statues of Aztec gods and Mayan goddesses, an Egyptian vase, a Celtic spear, a Greek abacus, several ancient scrolls and a marble tablet showing two figures on either side of a rectangular door circa approximately 80-90 AD featured amongst the collection.

She came upon the old assembly room and caught up with the gangly youth who'd stopped at the doorway to the hall while the other two set the TARDIS ship down near the computer station. "Henry Two. You were successful?" She mentally added 'of course'. It was hardly a question but more an expectation. He had, after all, learnt from the best.  
Her young apprentice held up a Yale key for her with a steady hand. "Here it is, Angel One; the key to the future as you say."  
Angel One smiled broadly at him. "I think you deserve a reward for that, don't you?" She nodded, flicking her eyes to the extraterrestrial police box. "Go on, why don't you open it up for us?"

Henry hesitated. "I don't know if we should. We normally look at things that are thousands of years old. This isn't exactly past its prime. Plus we usually have to dig through a ton of rock and hack through a jungle ... somehow this is just too easy."  
"So far?" She corrected.  
"So far." He begrudged, crossing his arms.  
"So far!" She snorted delicately. "So 'far' we can be done for kidnap, breaking-in and theft ..." Angel One took a breath. "And surely you don't think so little of our efforts with Torchwood. They will still be out there looking to get their Time Lord-detecting technology back."  
"Yeh, okay, I forgot about them ... that was a while ago."

"Indeed. It did take us quite a while to track down Miss Donna Noble; even with the Torchwood technology." She shook her head. "That's the price, Henry; all these things. The question is: is it worth it?" Angel One smiled coquettishly. "Is it really just a police box? Is everything we've been researching nothing but a fairy tale? Is it all just a fantastic story?" She circled him. "There is certainly one way to find out the truth. That is to unlock it." She nodded to the box.  
Henry fisted the key. "Sure." He replied and swung around. "I'm just thinking there's gotta be a catch we haven't sussed out yet."  
"Well, we can hardly debate it in a vacuum, Henry, but I can tell you one thing: we have a limited window of opportunity before the alien pays us a visit."  
That spurred Henry into action. "Right." He stated in his toned down voice and walked briskly forward to the box.

Holding onto her excitement Angel One followed at his heel and watched with all the schoolgirl thrill of the moment of discovery hidden beneath her years of etiquette training as Henry put the key in the lock and turned it.

* * *

The door creaked open to his light push.

"Whoa." Henry said hoarsely, staring into the gap and at last stepping through the narrow doorway and into the blue police box. "It's bigger on the inside, Angel One! Captain Graham, you've got to take a look at this! Stanson?"

The four of them stepped into the vast room, walking around the space. It was a few moments and Angel One pulled herself from the feeling of wonder. "We must find the device." She turned to address the others. "Take a look about. It's supposed to be fashioned like a headset."

It was a quiet moment as they looked all around the room.

"It's too tidy in here ... I can't see anything that looks like a headset." Henry reported quietly.  
"Before we think about pushing any buttons try looking down beneath the ramp. It won't be so tidy underneath there where all the gears are." Angel One advised him to head down. "Stanson Three, could you wheel my computer table in please?"  
"No problems." Stanson nodded and walked out.  
"Captain Graham?"  
"Aye, ma'am?" He answered. The Captain was standing beside the Master Console, scratching his beard in deep thought.  
Angel One smiled humorously. "You're standing at the helm of an alien ship. What do you think about that?"  
He raised a slow eyebrow at her and regarded the hexagonal console. "That I may be, and a ship she is, but I ain't got no star to steer her by."

The ship around them gave an unusually loud pulse making them look up and around.  
"Did you do anything, Henry Two?"  
"Absolutely not." His voice reported from down below.  
"Ship's alive..." Captain Graham murmured decisively. "And we ain't her crew."

Stanson came wheeling in noisily up the ramp with the computer table.

"We're not looking to commandeer her for more than a couple hours, Captain. That is to say if fair weather permits of course."  
"Aye, I'm glad for that. What'd'ya call that thing we need again?"

"The Chameleon Arch." Angel One answered.

There was a sudden gentle whirring sound and they looked up to see the fabled headset coming down to meet them.  
"Oh, yes!" Angel One hissed, unable to control her pleasure from escaping her mouth. "This is it!" She backed away and got to her computer equipment. "Now, while I get this all set up, could someone go and check on our very important guest?"  
"With pleasure, ma'am." Captain Graham replied and turned away. "A whale's a whale," he grumbled as he departed, "no matter what planet it hails from I don't fancy being stove down any creature's gullet."

Angel One regarded the Ethernet cable in her hand and reviewed the alien console as she heard two sets of steps heading down the ramp and back out into the old boys school beyond.

* * *

There were various items lying on top of the TARDIS master console including a mobile phone. "Hmm. You're Bluetooth, aren't you?" She regarded the whole of the column and the room in turn. "Oh, you most certainly are Bluetooth." She draped the cable over the console and woke up her computer screen. "In all the excitement I nearly forgot a piece of the puzzle. Henry Two?"

Henry came up beside her. "I'm not an IT expert, but I think the Captain's right. I had a look at those circuits and I think they have biometric properties. At least they're a bit more advanced looking than optical cables and gold connections."  
"Oh, yes, Captain Graham is quite correct; the TARDIS is alive." Angel One smiled happily despite knowing less about computers than her student did. "Let's have a look at this headset, shall we?"  
It was a quick look and they found the uniquely shaped groove for the fob watch. When they slotted the watch into the groove the machine gave a charging hiss.  
"This'll really work?" Henry said in awe.  
"Rather sounds like it, doesn't it?" Angel One answered equally stunned by the sound of electrical activity.

"... I'll just run a few static tests on the equipment."  
"If you please ..." Angel One agreed quietly, still transfixed by the headset as Henry started running simulation tests. "Immortality." She murmured. "We're so close ... it feels ... amazing."

* * *

"The first stage is coming up positive, Angel One."

"Exactly as we surmised?"  
"Three out of three attempts." He reported cheerily.  
"Side effects?"  
He shrugged, "none."  
"Wonderful!" Angel One proclaimed, and then paused, "absolutely no side effects?"  
"None at all. The Chameleon Arch will do exactly what we expect and nothing else." He nodded at the headset. "It's bang on the mark for everything we read from the book."  
Angel One stared at the Chameleon Arch device for another moment in silence.

"It's not just me, is it? It seems too easy to you too, doesn't it?" Henry Two asked quietly. "It's eerie." He nodded at the headset and shook off the feeling. "Shall we get on to stage one then, Angel One?"  
"Stage one." Angel One repeated, stirring herself back to reality. "Yes. We just need one more piece to complete the puzzle." Angel One added.

"Add one Donna Noble. On it." Henry turned away and headed out of the TARDIS.


	5. Impossible Things

_A/n: FanFiction: A place where people who shouldn't be writers but need to be writers can post some of their writing to be accessed by a real audience in the hopes of getting feedback that could provide some insight on how to improve._

_A/n: Irony: Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs._

* * *

**IMPOSSIBLE THINGS**

* * *

'What? ... What!'

All the events of today caused the Doctor to break into a run back to town. He hadn't thought much of any of the events back at Farringham village. Not even the big white van that had passed him coming down the lane had seemed suspicious to him at the time. But now his TARDIS was gone and that made everything suddenly quite serious.

Retracing the series of events it was the van that had been the last thing to happen. The Doctor remembered it had passed him on its way back to town. And thinking on the town: break-ins ... in a measly population of six hundred people? Surely it wouldn't be hard to find the burglar and what had they in fact stolen? A 'trinket'? What sort of 'trinket'? Perhaps it was a really old, unbranded trinket? And what about the woman from whom it was stolen? Who was she to be sitting there in a small town cafe with a name like 'Martha'? And then there was Verity Newman's book sitting in triplicate in the pile of books and magazines for sale. Verity, of course, had been named after John Smith's mother.

Weighing up the likelihood of more than one thief in a population of six hundred and six the Doctor decided whoever had taken the trinket had also taken the TARDIS. But what would an illicit collector of trinkets want with an old blue police box they couldn't open? They couldn't open it without the key ... In another jolt of nerves the Doctor felt into his breast pocket and found his sonic screwdriver. Then he felt into his right hand trouser pocket and discovered what he'd dreaded.

The TARDIS' key was gone.

Clearly it was the boy on the skateboard who had snuck it off him while the Doctor had been busy keeping them both from falling over.

The Doctor pelted back up the main street noticing that Ralph and his Ute were gone.

* * *

Hurrying into the cafe the Doctor discovered the two women had also left so that source of information had dried up. "Oh, no-no-no-no-no!" He dragged his fingers desperately through his hair and turned to the sales counter.  
The fellow who had served him the cake earlier returned from the back of the shop and casually greeted him with a nod of his head and a calm look on his face.  
"Uh, excuse me. Hi. Fred, wasn't it?" The Doctor gave a nervous clenched-teeth smile.  
"You look like you lost something mighty important, sir." The middle-aged man had a mild voice to match his mild facial expression.  
"Uh ... what an excellent choice of words ... I was just wondering. The lady that was over there; Martha, her name was. The one who'd had her house broken into last night. Can you tell me perhaps, because you were obviously listening as well ... what was it that ... got stolen?"  
The man frowned with a slight blush; obviously embarrassed at being caught eavesdropping. "Well, it was a watch." Fred set to work behind the barista machine.  
"It was her granddad's fob watch." The Doctor felt like he'd been caught in a web. "And it had intricate circle engravings on the case." He rubbed his face. "But it's just a watch now; it doesn't do anything but keep the time." He murmured to himself.

But it still would work with the TARDIS' Chameleon Arch mechanism.

But it wouldn't work without a Time Lord's consciousness.

"Yeah, it did. How'd you know it had circles on the case? You're not from around here I would've thought."  
"Actually I had one just like it once." The Doctor countered picking up a brisk pace with his words, "tell me, coz' this town isn't exactly overrun with motorized transport and there can't be too many of the sort being driven around and all that ... who owns the big white van?"  
"Oh, you'll be after 'Captain' Graham." The shop manager answered with a slight sneer. "That's the man you'll want to take any business up with if it has to do with the van."

"You don't hear many country people called 'Captain'."  
"He used to be a captain. Dishonourably discharged so I've heard and he landed a job working for so-and-so up on the hill." The man shook his head and handed the Doctor a cup of tea. "On the house, I reckon you need it, sir. It'll clear your head for you."  
"Thanks-." The Doctor gratefully took the drink in pleasant surprise. He was about to ask about Captain Graham's employer but Fred carried on.

"There are plenty of terrible things that happen in the world." Fred started on, "And the funny thing is it doesn't matter where you are. Trouble always manages to find you."  
"Me?" The Doctor gritted at the truth in that statement. "Or is it me that finds the trouble?"  
"I reckon that's the snarky thing about trouble, sir. There's the trouble you ask for and the trouble you don't." Fred nodded knowingly. "You, me; anyone. Everyone."  
The Doctor took a sip and felt the antioxidants helping his synapses immediately.  
"I'll give you an example. There's Aaron Freeman who got his truck bogged for nearly a week six winters ago. He didn't see it coming. Last winter he found himself sitting atop of the truck in the same boggy spot; stuck as anything. He didn't see it coming. There was trouble he asked for."  
"He didn't learn his lesson then?"  
"I'd never think too badly on a soul. One man's common sense is another man's unfathomable mystery of the universe."  
"Oh, now that is very true."  
"For Aaron it's the great hurrying rush he's always in that undoes him. He can think clearly but not when he gets like that."

The Doctor could see that too; The TARDIS had a knack for getting him into trouble. She joined in with him with that spirit for helping people but today was one of those times when her shenanigans had given her the shorter stick.

"And then there were the floods nine years ago that nobody asked for. The Christophers lost over ten head of cattle and across town a tree came down in the winds and landed on Mary Stace's garage. The garage roof collapsed and pulled half the guttering off her house to boot." Fred shook his head and regarded the Doctor with a steady knowing look. "The point is that trouble is meted out to everyone like a tax. No one's exempt. You can try to prove me wrong. Show me an untroubled person and I'll show you a person who has a positive attitude and who knows how to ask for a helping hand. That's because that's all that there is." Fred explained. "It doesn't make you weak to need help, and it doesn't matter how big the problem is. There's a helping hand out there for you and you're a better person for asking." He advised the Doctor.

"Not for me." The Doctor said sadly, thinking on Donna. "I had a friend. And she was brilliant. But I think ... my kind of trouble isn't ... well, I don't want to bring anyone else into it. I made my trouble hers, and that's ... I didn't mean to."

"The reason I brought up Mary Stace is because her garage may have been flattened but her car was fine." Fred kindly interrupted, "and the reason for that is at the time the tree came down she was over at the Christophers helping to get their cattle up to the highlands." Fred smiled. "Now just supposing what would've happened if Mary Stace hadn't been helping the Christophers that day? If she hadn't been over there at their place they'd have easily lost another fifty odd cattle and Mary would have had no car. Just fancy the fate that friend of yours would've had were she not helping you. Just fancy it because it's not just your fate that's affected. It's also your friend's."  
"I don't think it works in this particular case." The Doctor replied grimly. "She was better off without me."  
"That'd make it easy if it were true wouldn't it?" Fred countered wisely. "But if she had enough sense in her head to make the decision and she wasn't the one doing the walking then would she believe she was better off without you? You should ask her."  
The Doctor swallowed a bitter lump in his throat. Tears stung his eyes as he took another sip of tea. It might be true that Donna Noble was a sensible person but it wasn't a choice for either of them.

Fred shook his head. "So you walk away from helping hands often?"  
The Doctor stared at him. "What? It's not as though I had a choice!"  
"I can't tell you how many times I've heard that old line and it's never more than complete stuff and nonsense." Fred stared pointedly back. "That's exactly what Aaron Freeman was thinking as he drove into the bog. He couldn't think of any other way to do it. He couldn't think of waiting a few days till the ground had dried a bit; he couldn't think of sparing just half an hour to fetch some spare planks to put down; he couldn't even think to spare fifteen minutes to go the long way around. Not having a choice is only a fellow's bad habit of closing his mind."  
"If I could've thought of a way to do it I would've." The Doctor said bitterly.  
"Yes." Fred turned away from him and attended to wiping down the bench. "Such a pity you stopped thinking on it."

Fred locked eyes with the Doctor. "I do well to remind you how Beethoven got to be immortal. A man of intelligence should be spoilt for choice. There are many ways to go about getting a thing done if a man could just let himself see them."

The Doctor stared at the man agape. "Latimer isn't it?" He asked, unable to get anything else off his tongue.  
"Frederick Timothy Latimer," he answered in affirmative. "I'm also known around these parts as a friendly ear, a good source of sensible advice and the husband of the best cook in an attested seventy mile radius." Fred finished proudly. "And you know why she's my wife?"  
"At a guess: because you can't cook?"  
"Because she fancies herself as my helping hand, bless her, and I do right by her as her helping hand. We've been together for thirty-two years and we've been best friends since we where in third grade."  
The Doctor smiled with Fred's steady contentedness showing through on his face. He finished the tea.

"So anyway, who is Captain Graham's employer?"  
"Captain Graham is Ms Angela Galloway-Wormleighton's employee." Fred sniffed disdainfully as he took back the cup. "I suppose she'd need a person like that out on the digs."  
The Doctor mouthed her name. "So is she into archaeology then?"  
"Oh, yes, that's the official term." Fred leaned closer to him. "But you know what an archaeologist is, don't you? It's just a fancy way of saying 'land pirate'. Digging up tombs and searching for buried treasure all comes under the same heading if you ask me. Aunt Martha's too polite for her own good or she'd go charging right up the hill and have it out with that lot." There was an expectant gleam in Fred's eye.  
"You think I should?" The Doctor guessed.  
"I figure a person like you doesn't sit around doing nothing about it when they get ticked off. I also reckon that Angela could do with a good straightening out."

The Doctor mused. This Angela Galloway-Wormleighton would be the one in possession of his TARDIS right now. "Does sound like a job for me."  
"Frankly she's got to realise that decent country folk don't carry on like that. There's a very good reason that we all behave ourselves. We've got to stick together. Sooner or later she'll be for it. That woman hasn't got a yardstick to gauge when to stop. One day she'll take her lot out too far into the bog and there'll be nobody around to help."  
The Doctor was feeling stronger within himself. "So, where does this Ms Angela Galloway-Wormleighton live then?"  
"Farringham School for Boys. You know where that is? You just head-."  
"-West for about twenty two minutes." The Doctor finished with a momentary stunned feeling. "I've been there before." He straightened from the counter and turned to leave. His eyes caught on the titles of the row of books behind the newspapers. There were three copies of A Journal of Impossible Things. "Oh, Fred, you wouldn't happen to know ... if Angela would have read Verity Newman's book?"  
"A Journal of Impossible Things." Fred recited the title from memory. "Most likely. Everyone in the village has since it's what's made us famous. It's like we suddenly exist to the rest of the world. That book has brought a lot of tourist business to this town."  
"It has?" The Doctor smiled, genuinely cheering up with this shard of information. "That's good news then."  
"Now that you mentioned it Ms Angela moved out here not two months after that book got published."

"I must warn you, though, Doctor. Angela's the ambitious sort. She's got no yardstick and no brakes and that's the trouble she asks for. The only question is how long it'll take before she puts herself right in it and gets more than she bargained for." He picked up the empty cup. "I hope you have a better afternoon, sir, and find what you've lost." Fred told him and carried the cup off to the back of the store.

The Doctor left the shop and headed for the old school thinking over in his mind on how he might possibly cure Donna of the meta-crisis as well as Angela's folly that Fred could See looming in her future if the Doctor didn't intervene.


	6. Reunion Reprise

**Reunion Reprise**

* * *

Donna woke up somewhere terribly quiet on a threadbare chaise longue. "Where am I ...?" She looked around her. It was an old room and the bit of furniture she'd been lying on was probably worth a bit on the antiques market and if it'd be done up with a bit of reupholstering. With a fresh coat of paint the whole setting would've allowed a tariff of up to two week's worth of casual-loading salary to stay one night. It was failing all that, however, and Donna was in a crusty old sitting room whose owners had fallen short with their household maintenance funds. They couldn't pay her to stay here ... why was she here? Clearly not by personal choice!

Indignantly brushing the dust off her rumpled suit Donna got up and contemplated the huge ancient portrait of the world up on the far wall. At this point she scoped the whole room again and decided for the odd shape it ought to have once been a school room in a past life and the new owners had a thing for geography like the teacher before them. The next most interesting thing to catch Donna's eye was the distant view out the window so she went over there.

She regarded the rolling green hills and the blue summer's afternoon sky. 'Wow. Now there's a view. I must be out in the middle of nowhere. Look at that.' The air was fresh and she opened the dirty window up even more in order to lean out. It was a really enjoyable warm summer's afternoon. "It's lovely isn't-?" All at once as Donna realised there was no one to express her feelings to she felt a twinge of loneliness. She stared to the empty spot she'd unconsciously left for someone to stand beside her at the window. It was like there should have been someone but there wasn't. With a small sigh she turned back to lean out of the window on her own. No, she didn't really need anyone to enjoy things with. All the same some company would be nice.

Movement caught her eye down near the overgrown bushes crowding around the derelict gates. Someone with a long brown jacket and crazy hair was apparently sneaking in to the school. There was a flash of memory of a blue box; a gangly man and an alien landscape. The same gangly man. "Doctor?" Donna smiled, recognising him. 'Oh, there you are, Doctor.' She pulled her head in from the window and hurried to the door. It opened with a creak and, met by no security guards, school headmasters, or toad-shaped washerwomen as befit such a setting she quickly found a bathroom and then hurried down the stairs to meet her spaceman.

* * *

Donna didn't notice anyone about in the gigantic old school but she could hear voices coming from a room, echoing across the downstairs tiled hall. There was no reason at all that she could see that she shouldn't just waltz over between all those museum display stands to the front door and open it right up.

So she did.

The Doctor was standing there on the stoop, pointing his little sonic screwdriver at the door. He lowered his hands and the look of determined concentration on his face turned dramatically to abject horror.  
"Talk about a slap in the face!" Donna snapped, hurt by his horrified expression at seeing her. "What's that look for, Doctor? Am I covered in mutant green slime? I know it was dusty ..." She looked down at herself in worry, trying to find more dust streaks "the mirror in that bathroom had more dust on it than I did ..." She trailed off as she continued dusting herself off.

"Uh, hi. You don't know me-I'm-er-the-plumber."

Donna stopped in her brushing motions and looked up at him in sheer disbelief. "Oh, now that's real funny ..." Her eyes open wide in horror as she saw the lack of humour on his face. "What do you mean?" She was gaping at him now. "No way, you didn't leave me on my own with my memory wiped!"  
"Technically I left you with your m-."  
"Why'd-you-wanna-do-that?" She couldn't believe she'd just guessed that right! "You-!"  
"No! Donna, you-don't-understand!" He grabbed her wrists.

Donna took a steadying breath. "Alright." She gritted. "I'm sure you can explain it to me, spaceman." A steaming Donna stepped away from the door to let the Doctor properly in.

The Doctor shut the door behind him and passed by Donna. She followed his motions and found herself regarding the litter of display stands in the entrance hall they were in.  
"Spoils from her expeditions, no doubt ..." He went about peering at each of the encased objects. "That's a Roman ..."

As she'd seen it all before on her mad dash to the door and was really quite rattled by what she'd learned in the last two minutes Donna's attention couldn't be diverted for too long by neither history nor geography.  
"Doctor," she said, calmly interrupting, "You know, if you're gonna be using your sonic screwdriver on a door it'd be more believable if you said you were a locksmith, not a plumber." Donna pointed out impetuously.  
The Doctor went quiet and his dark brown eyes regarded her with seriousness.  
"So, now that I've got your attention, go on then; what is it? Why'd my memory get wiped?"  
"How's Shaun, Donna?"

"What?" Donna's expression froze, "Shaun? Who's Shaun?"

The Doctor suddenly had a scared look on his face. "You don't remember? You married him not long ago? Nice fellow. Fairly bland. A bit more meat on him than I have ...?"  
"Married? No way." Donna looked down at the fingers on her left hand. "Nope." She double checked her ring finger, "If I have been married it's been a while since I last wore my wedding ring-oh-my-gosh could I be pregnant? Do-I-look-pregnant?!" She shrieked.  
He glanced down at her. "No, I don't think so. You've lost weight if anything. Nice outfit. You' been somewhere dusty? How can you not remember Shaun? What else don't you remember?"  
"Thanks. Yeah this place is filthy-you'd think they could've at least put some sheets on the furniture to protect it and hang-on-a-minute ... Are you seriously asking me what I do-not-remember? Seriously?" Donna felt a wave of frustration in amongst her enjoyment of the rolling conversation.  
"No, Donna," he explained in a voice of reason, "I'm not really asking you but it's certainly the question that we need to find an answer to."  
"Well alright then ..."

Donna had a thought, "I got it!" She announced excitedly, "why don't you ask me something else and see if I can remember that then?"

"I ... don't know if I should." He looked doubtful and a bit worried.  
"Why? What?" Donna asked. The feeling of nervousness was starting to take her over yet again. The Doctor wasn't usually one for tap dancing around the truth. Not unless it might hurt someone ... "If I remember the wrong things will my brain implode of something?" She teased but the look on his face dashed any trace of a lighter moment. "Oh-my-god!" She clasped her fingers to her temples. "Maybe I don't want to remember?"  
"But what do you remember, Donna?" He asked with a delicate tenderness.

Donna took a deep breath, searching through her memories. "I live in Chiswick, Gramps always goes up the hill to look at the stars, Mum's always on at me to get a job, Dad plays football, Neris drives me barmy, and you're the Doctor and you save people."  
"Your Dad?" He repeated doubtfully.  
"Yeah, he's in the Premier League. What about him?"  
"Uh, nothing, never mind." He discounted hastily. "What do you remember about where you've been?"  
"You mean like being under the Thames? And we climbed out and it was completely drained."  
He stared at her.

"Or ... wait a minute," she laughed, "what about the time you took me to the planet of the hats?"  
"What ... planet of the hats? What happened there?"  
"Well it wasn't anything I was expecting because the people were the hats." She laughed, "oh go on, you gotta laugh at it."  
"Donna ..." He swallowed nervously, "You can't be remembering that. What happened? What places did we visit while we were there? What are the names of the people we talked to while we were there?"

"Well, there was ..." Donna struggled to remember actual individuals from that planet and couldn't. She tried to remember specific things they'd actually done. She couldn't. "... I don't remember any of those things!" Her voice came out in a squeak. "What's wrong with me?"  
The Doctor grabbed her hands, wrapping his fingers around hers. "It's okay, Donna, I think I know what it is. Your memories have all been re-filed. They've been taken out and put back in again, some added, some taken away."  
"I've-been-reprogrammed?" Donna squeaked, slightly disturbed. "Why would anyone want to do that? Am I a robot version of myself or something-please-don't-tell-me-that-I'm a robot."  
The Doctor mouthed, "w ... you were very sick, Donna."  
"And I'm not now?" She eyed him suspiciously, he didn't have a hand in any of this but it seemed like he was agreeing which was really rather bad enough. "Oh-my-god."

She sighed in resignation. "I really am a robot."  
"No." He countered strongly. "I don't think you are."  
She pursed her lips in scepticism so he pulled out his stethoscope and checked her heart.  
"You're perfectly human, Donna." He reported. "This might actually mean you're not sick anymore!" He added happily. "Think of that."  
"Because whatever's been removed was causing me damage? That explains that then." She looked down at her vacant wedding ring finger.  
The Doctor took hold of her hands again in reassurance.

"What explains what?"

Donna looked up at him suddenly finding this all rather fun again. "No Shaun." She answered, "funny; I don't even remember having any boyfriends. How about that for a selective lobotomy?"  
The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her. "Were they all traumatic experiences then?"  
Donna shrugged, "must've been. I mean; if your theory of benevolence is all that it's cracked up to be. I mean; what a treat? How many girls wish they could just forget all about their exes?" She sighed, "but am I really that tragic, though?"  
"Oh, no, Donna." He answered feverishly. "You're brilliant."  
Donna felt a warm glow from his words. A very warm glow ... was it her hormones? Maybe it was the fact that he didn't seem to want to let go of her hands. "So, what about us? I mean, I don't remember anything ... did we ... I dunno ... do it? Is that why you took my memory away? Was it that bad?"

That got him to drop his grip super quick. He backed right off. "Where did you come up with that idea from?" He looked at her with an expression of complete shock. It was almost as though he'd been betrayed. "You described me as 'a long streak of alien nothing'."  
Donna felt a twinge of mortification and guilt. Also the hand holding bit was an instant miss. 'That was callous of me.' She chided herself. "Sorry." She felt herself blushing, "you must've copped a bit of fallout from an ex there." She paused.

He looked a bit lost and confused.

"So what happened with the last tall skinny alien I dated then?" She quipped, an effort to ease up the tension. "Have I told you about any other boyfriends I might have had?" She stopped, remembering the space she'd made at the window for that second person. "It doesn't feel like I've always been dateless."  
"There was someone called Lance." He answered carefully. "Can you remember what he looked like?"  
"Lance ..." Donna searched her memories. "I do remember meeting someone on the Library planet. But he was a hologram and his name wasn't Lance."  
"You remember the Library?" The Doctor was instantly recharged, "with River?"  
"I do." She answered. "And the planet of the Ood."  
"How much do you remember of that place?"  
"We set the Ood free." Donna smiled. "And I could hear them singing."  
"What about the Daleks?" He asked incisively. "Anything on them?"

Donna filtered through her memories. "Nope, sorry."

"No Daleks ..." That information earned a wide smile from the Doctor. "You wanna come with me again?"  
Donna was overjoyed, "oh, yes please! Always." She tried to figure out if it was appropriate to hug him given the rather blurry line of friend and fellah currently going on in her head but in the end it was he who grabbed her into a tight hug.

There was something desperate and needing in his hold around her. "Oh, Doctor." She said quietly, rubbing his back for several moments, "it's alright." She hushed consolingly.

* * *

The double doors to the assembly hall burst open. Donna and the Doctor broke apart and looked over at the man with the untidy beard and the black garbed M.I. uniforms flanking him. A boy, perhaps about seventeen ducked around behind Donna and the Doctor. Donna craned her neck, watching the kid in suspicion.  
"Captain Graham, isn't it?" The Doctor asked. "I'm told that white van belongs to you?"  
The boy tried reaching into the Doctor's pocket and Donna snapped fiercely at him. "Oi! Doctor!"  
The Doctor instantly grabbed the boys arm on her alert and the sonic screwdriver landed on the floor. "I'm sure you could do other things with your life other than being a pickpocket." He let the boy go with a condemning disapproval in his voice. "Have you ever thought maybe dressmaking, or computer support? What about getting ships into those little bottles? You know the little ships in bottles right, Donna?"  
"Yeah," she joined in quickly, "Y'gotta be real dexterous to handle them tweezers alright. Need a good eye for that."

Captain Graham cleared his throat. "I didn't really want to interrupt this er ... happy reunion between the two of you but Angel One doesn't want you running around loose when she uses the device again."  
"Device?" Donna asked, personally interested as the boy silently skirted around and picked up the sonic screwdriver from the floor. "What device?" She regarded the Doctor and back to Captain Graham again. From the looks on their faces everyone but her seemed to be in on one very important detail. "What did it do to me?"  
"If you two would be good enough to walk this way you'll find out, Mrs Noble."

"Mrs!" Donna halted mid-step, "why do you say Mrs? Do I look married to you? Do I have a ring on my finger to say I'm married?"

"Donna," the Doctor groaned, "just ... come on."

Donna huffed loudly in objection and did as the Doctor told.


End file.
